


One More Please, Daddy?

by Toryb



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Crying, Daddy Kink, F/M, Kinky Fucks Discord, Kinky babies are kinky, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Teasing, hi this is shameless smut brought on by the bughead discord server
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toryb/pseuds/Toryb
Summary: This is just kinky Bughead Smut that heavily features a Daddy kink. Adult!Bughead living in their apartment have a little fun to distract Jughead from his writing.





	One More Please, Daddy?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is shameless Daddy Kink because the "kinky-fuckers" in the Bughead Group Discord incouraged me to do this. Also my dear @bettyscooperr on tumblr is just new to dom!jughead and I wrote her a domme!betty so why not give her another! Hope you guys enjoy this shameless smut! Thanks to @lilibug--xx for being an awesome beta:)
> 
> (know how I said the last one at least pretended to have a plot? This one doesn't. It's just straight Kink)

The chair Jughead’s sitting at squeaks too much and the desk is cheaply made. Everything in their crappy little apartment is cheap. But it’s theirs so it’s special. Sometimes he wishes he could have a strong oak desk like the one in Hiram Lodge’s office, or a chair that he didn’t have to build himself while Betty commented from the kitchen that he wasn’t reading the instructions right. (“It’s IKEA Betty,  _ can _ you read the instructions right?”) But most of the time he likes their shitty two bedroom. It’s expensive – because there isn't much in New York that isn’t – but they can afford it; even on their meager college student budget. Mostly this is thanks to their freelance writing work. Which, now that he thinks about it, there’s an article that he should really be finishing up, but he’s been pricked with the needle of inspiration for his novel. These days his muse has been fast and fleeting, so he grabs hold when he can.

His glasses keep trying to fall off the bridge of his nose as he types. They’re prescription, not just a finishing touch to his anti-capitalistic hipster aesthetic. Apparently, his eyesight has been bad for a while. He only recently had the luxury of finding out, after Betty had forced him into the optometrist’s chair. She says the glasses make him look older, sexy even, so he doesn’t mind wearing them around a little more.

He hears Betty creep into the study before he actually sees her. She’s slinking slowly along the hardwood, but under her weight the floor lets out a groan. Part of him finds it endearing that she’s trying to sneak up on him in a place this terrible. The walls are paper thin, the floors creak with the simplest movements, and all of their furniture is used. It’s a little slice of heaven for him.

“Guess who?” Betty asks with a laugh, covering his eyes and pressing his spectacles a little further up his nose.

Really there are only two other people with a key to their house and he knows it’s not Veronica playing a flirtatious game with him (Archie’s not entirely off the table but his hands are bigger and much more calloused). But Jughead plays along to humor her anyway, “I don’t know, who is it?”

“It’s me, silly Daddy,” she whispers. Her lips are centimeters away from his ear, her breath hot against him and she nips his lobe, hands drifting down until they’re flush against his chest. “You couldn’t forget me, could you?”

Betty’s voice is meek and mild, but he knows that’s not how she’s really feeling. His little vixen is all spitfire in the bedroom. If he were a car his engine wouldn’t stop running. Once Jughead turns around in the chair to get a better look at her, he’s really thankful he hadn’t seen her until now. Because it would have meant an embarrassing moment of jizzing in his pants at the mere sight of his girlfriend in a short plaid school skirt and her hair pulled into pigtails.    

“What do you think, Daddy?” she teases again, voice breathy and low. She sets herself neatly in his lap, straddling him so their crotches are purposefully pressed together. Little tease. “I wanted attention and I knew just how to get it.”

“Naughty little girl. Are you sure you want to play with fire?”

Betty practically purrs. “Oh, I’m sure. You were so busy working and your little baby was tired of waiting. So, I did something about it!” She finished, full of pride as she bounces on his lap, creating delicious friction between them.

“This isn’t nice,” he warns, voice gravely and rough. “If you keep at it I’m going to have to punish you.”

She gasps in mock surprise. “Oh no,” she whispers innocently, “Whatever would I do with a little punishment? Is Daddy going to spank me? Or make me choke on his cock?”

Jughead knows when she’s pushing his buttons, and this is obviously one of those times. But fine. He needs a little distraction from work anyhow – and who better to provide it than his very own Betty Cooper, all dressed up in pretty clothes and begging to be fucked?

With ease, he wraps his arms around her and picks her up, setting her down on the rickety old writer’s desk. His cock is already hard, but he does his best to try and ignore it, for now. They won’t be finishing early today. This little girl is all glutton for punishment. She spreads her legs for him, revealing her pretty pink pussy, absent of any lace to hide her folds. Completely exposed: exactly how he likes her, and how she likes to be.

“I’ve been a very bad girl today, Daddy.” Betty plays with the buttons on his shirt, popping open the first, second, third – until his chest is completely exposed. Hungrily, she licks her lips, big green eyes growing darker. “I touched myself waiting for you. You said it was only going to be a few minutes until you could come to bed, but it’s been an hour. And Daddy, you should know, I hate waiting. So, I grabbed a big toy and filled myself up with it until I was so dripping wet I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t let myself cum. No, I know Daddy likes to make me cum so hard I can’t see straight. But my pussy hurts now.”

“Oh, does it?” Jughead raises an eyebrow, lips curving into a smirk. “I guess Daddy’s just going to have to make it all better.”

He drops to his knees before her, yanking her hips closer to the edge of the desk. Immediately, his tongue presses flat against the slick folds of her pussy. There’s a shark intake of air above him, followed by a high-pitched whimper. It’s his cue he’s doing well, and music to his ears. He doesn’t stop his tongue, just keeps probing the inside of Betty’s tight walls, tracing the alphabet on her clit. When he spells his name, her fits grasp the table harder and she shutters with desire. Her breath always hitches higher when he traces out the loops of his name against her.

“More Daddy!” She begs. “Pretty please.”

The steady rocking rhythm of her hips quickly becomes a hasty mess of desperate grinding against his tongue as her voice grows hoarse from screaming. Again, and again Jughead works her right to the edge and again and again he pulls back, not quite ready to give her the sweet release she craves. He can tell just by looking at her bruised and swollen lips she’s desperate. Broken and malleable all for him; she follows his movements like a hypnotized little doll, perfect porcelain for him to play with. 

“Give it to me Daddy! Give me your cock!”

Betty’s hands launch out towards his khakis, undoing the buttons with shaky hands yet steady resolve. Jughead lets her have her fun. Once she’s pulled his cock out – eyeing it with wide, hungry eyes – he pulls her back. For a moment, she looks perplexed, but without a word from him she’s quickly moved to her knees, opening her mouth for him like the perfect little girl she is. It’s amazing how much she craves his cock, and the way her mouth looks stretched around him is addictive.

“Make me cum first, baby girl. Then we’ll talk about you.”

That doesn’t make her happy, but she’s obedient, as always. Betty’s pretty pink lips wrap around his tip, sinking down on him lower and lower until he hits the back of her throat with a gag. Her movements are slow, lazy, torturous – she is absolutely teasing him as retribution. Jughead wraps a hand in one of her pigtails and tugs, hard. She lets out a low whine and spreads her legs for him, as her eyes fall half-lidded.

Apparently, she understands. Teasing Daddy isn’t the way to behave. She works him quickly now, bobbing her head up and down like it's her job. Every time she makes his cock disappear down her throat, Jughead feels himself being pulled closer and closer to the edge of something magnificent. Betty’s blowjobs always are, though. Her tongue traces along his most sensitive vein as her hands cup his balls. She rolls them, nice and slow, until he’s holding her down against him and she’s sobbing. When he finally pulls back, Betty sputters out a gasp, a mess of pre-cum and spit. She follows his cock, opening her mouth wide again. He can hear her whimper “more”.

“Not yet. Swallow it all and maybe I’ll let you cum while I’m buried deep inside your sweet little pussy. You’d like that, wouldn't you, baby girl?”

Betty closes her eyes, head tilted back, lip between her teeth as she fights a back a groan. “Uh huh. Yes Daddy, yes,” she nods enthusiastically, “Give me your cum, please!”

She won’t be getting it, not matter how sweetly she begs. Jughead’s in the mood to play a wicked little game tonight. It doesn’t take long before he cums against her lapping tongue. A few strokes of her hand and all the pleasure built up releases across her swollen lips and paints her chin and tits with ribbons of white.

“What a pretty picture, with my cum running down your face. But you made a mess, Betty. Do you know what that means?”

Excitement fills her eyes. She climbs up, turns, and bends over the desk so her pretty round ass is raised up in the air for him. He flicks her skirt up to her waist. “I need a punishment. Will Daddy spank me?” She looks over her shoulder at him, sweetly batting her eyelashes. 

It’s a good way to build himself back up. As much as Jughead wishes it weren’t true, he needs a few minutes to recuperate (and telling your girlfriend to wait, hold on you need a sandwich, isn’t sexy. Betty said so). He glides his hand along the curves of her body before bringing down a hard smack to her right asscheek. His little princess jumps and moans, her ass pushing back against the air for more. He can see how she's already soaked, arousal dripping down her legs as she craves her own finish. Too bad she won’t be getting it anytime soon.

“How many?” he asks, abruptly.

“W–what?” She’s too lost in her haze, deep in sub space that’s hard to unravel. Vulnerable, soft, and absolutely beautiful – he can’t help but smile seeing her like this.

Jughead’s gentler now as he asks again, “How many spankings to teach my dirty girl her lesson?”

“Oh… um… six,” she says decidedly. “Six spankings, Daddy! And I’ll be a good girl and count them all for you!”

Happy with her terms, he starts his ministrations. The hits start off gentle, a love tap to make her ass shake. But by hit number six, Betty is sobbing against the table with want, dripping and desperate, as she rocks back against him. Her ass is cherry red and absolutely beautiful.

“Cock! Cock, Daddy! Give me your cock!”

Jughead won’t deny her anymore. He wraps a hand around his cock, all of the sounds Betty had been making and the sight of her pussy practically clenching around the air got him hard in no time. He pumps himself twice before slipping inside her, easily. It’s her favorite thing to be on her stomach, completely pinned down by his weight as her fucks her senseless into something, anything. The shower wall, public fitting rooms, and even Veronica and Archie’s closet. They’ve had fun everywhere they can fit. His poor desk was going to break at any moment with how much they used it.

Those worries were far from his mind as he finally slips inside of her. It was too much having to wait, torture even for him. Betty’s pussy is warm, tight, and utterly inviting. She sucks him in and steals his breath, his hands finding her hips and pulling her back against him roughly. She screams when he’s balls deep inside of her, shivering with pleasure as she pushes back against him.

“Fuck me!” she begs, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! Daddy you gotta! You gotta fuck me with your cock or I’ll scream.”

“Oh we wouldn’t want that would we?” Jughead teases, his hands climbing up her back slowly, pushing her down into the desk. 

She screams when he ruts against her, hips smacking into her ass over and over as he gives her exactly what she wants. She screams when he twists his hand around both her pigtails and yanks, arching her off the faux wood stain and letting her tits bounce with his thrusts. She screams when his climax hits him suddenly and without warning. Betty writhes as he presses his chest to her back, her hips grinding and jerking as she finds her own release.  She screams when she finally comes and Jughead doesn’t stop her, her walls clamping down tightly on his cock. She pumps him dry, filling her up until there’s no room to move and they’re both spent and panting.

The air is sticky and thick with sex. A heavy, humid heat has formed around them, clinging to his sweat stained shirt. He pulls out slowly, so he doesn't hurt her. He wraps his arms around Betty and pulls her up. She falls limp against him, utterly spent. Ruined. Just the way he likes her.

Jughead is gentle moving her to bed, making sure to give her forehead a sweet kiss so she knows that she’s loved. He doesn’t like to leave her like this, but she mutters something about water and he knows it’s his job to bring it, especially after being the main cause of her fluid loss in the past hour.

“Need anything else, Betts?”

She shakes her head and gives his palm a little kiss. Betty doesn’t talk much after scenes, but she likes them. If she didn’t, he certainly would be the first to know. But she always comes back for more, the brutality leaving them both with an insatiable desire curled deep down in the pits of their depravity.

When he’s out in the kitchen, Jughead hears a gentle thud at the door. It kind of sounds like a knock, but of someone who desperately does not want to be here. They knock again, and he’s forced to at least consider going to the door. Once the water glass is filled, he cheeks the peephole. There’s a sweet middle-aged couple holding a tray of chocolate chip cookies that are absolutely screaming his name. (Just like Betty was doing a minute ago.) 

Jughead answers the door. “Howdy neighbors. How can I help you?”

The woman shoves the cookies in his arms and leaves, dragging her husband behind her, who looks a bit hazy and definitely confused. With a shrug, Jughead closes the door. Well, win-win-win for him. No social interaction, great sex, and free cookies. Today has been a blessing.

He brings two cookies and the water into the bedroom. Betty sits up with a smile, wincing at the soreness of her ass, before curling up in his lap happily. Her hair is messy, and she demands that he brush it. This isn’t a problem for him, the guy who’s literally so in love with every part of her body it’s insane, but sometimes she fusses when things hurt too bad and they end up bickering in bed about the proper way to brush a woman’s hair for the next hour.

“Who was at the door?” She asks with a soft yawn, biting into a warm, chocolate-chip cookie. “And when did we have time to make cookies? The only ones we have in the fridge are lemon bars. And as much as I’m sure you’d love to be able to materialize cookies, you can’t. You're not a wizard.” Betty tutts at him and he feels the sting of the harsh reality of her facts. 

“Ah, they’re from the new neighbors who just moved in across the hall. They didn’t really say much. I think they were busy.”

Betty doesn’t think much of it until a few hours later, when she wakes him up with a scream (and not the sexy kind either) and a punch to his chest so hard he gets winded. She rushes into the kitchen, muttering something about “apologizing with a pie” and “hoping the neighbors don’t think they’re a couple of kinky horn dogs”. He really doesn’t have the heart to tell her that they absolutely are.

Hopefully, he’ll get to lick the extra filling off of her later tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @tory-b


End file.
